


The Brain

by cat_77



Series: Flufftober 2018 [27]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_77/pseuds/cat_77
Summary: Isabelle’s number one life lesson?  No need to be vulnerable just because society expected it.





	The Brain

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt of “brain.”
> 
> * * *

Isabelle woke up to a pounding in her temples and a crick in her neck. She fluttered her eyes open to find herself seated on an uncomfortable wooden chair, hands bound before her, and facing a wide expanse of empty room. A warehouse, maybe, it kind of looked like one that they had toured for potential lab space but it was hard to tell just yet. It was cliche enough though, so she assumed her first hypothesis was correct until she had additional data to prove otherwise.

“I think she’s coming to,” a voice off to her left announced.

She heard the sound of footsteps echo in the open area before two men stood before her. They were on the younger side of middle aged, dressed nicely enough, and definitely needed to see the right side of a beach, and that was coming from herself and she knew she spent too many hours in front of a computer. She let her head loll back to work out the tension still held there, and tried to obtain more information about her current situation. If it happened to make it seem like she was more out of it than she really was, so be it. It worked in the movies so it was worth the try.

A slap across the face brought her attention back to the men in front of her, but not before she caught sight of at least one more still behind her. “Hey!” she protested. Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. Slowed. Slurred. Much like her mind currently felt, really. Given that and the way the room still kind of spun, she was going to assume drugs were at play. This upset her as she was part of the “Drug free is the way to be!” movement at work.

“Rumor has it that you are actually brain behind Morgenstern’s latest advancements at that Institute of his,” the first man spoke, which at least gave her something to try to focus on.

“We’re going to need some of that intel,” the second man chimed in.

She scoffed because she could. It was ridiculous. She was an intern. A relatively high up intern, but still an intern. Okay, so she might have had some ideas in a meeting and they might have ran with them and it might have led to an awesome breakthrough, but that was it.

Instead of saying any of that when they slapped her again and told her to lose the attitude, what came out was, “You think I’m all smart and want me for my brain or whatever? Then why are you drugging it and trying to give it a concussion?”

“She has a point,” the second man said, which caused the first man to turn to glare at him.

While the two of them bickered about the use of pharmaceuticals and the need for coercion, she made her move. Hopefully her head had cleared enough to let said move actually work. She had watched that YouTube video on how to get out of zip ties some time ago on a whim and, with her near photographic memory, it was easy enough to twist and yank and snap them in quick succession. They hadn’t bothered with her feet, which would have been more problematic, which meant that she was now unfettered and could attempt to escape.

They noticed, of course. They also noticed the well placed kick to the first man’s groin followed by a roundhouse to his head when he doubled over. The second man lunged, but she used the chair to first knock him back and then fully knock out the first guy when he tried to get back onto his feet. The chair shattered, which left her kind of weaponless because she only had little stubs of the legs left in her hands. Also, the roundhouse was possibly not the best idea as the room continued to turn even when she stopped.

“You said that she was just the brain, that this would be easy!” the second man protested as he wiped at his split lip.

She remembered the third man and stepped backwards to try to keep them both in view, making her the apex of an approximately thirty degree angle. Maybe thirty-five. It widened to a full forty because she did a double-take at what looked like horns coming out of the third man’s curls. She shook her head to clear it as the drugs must have still been at play and, when she looked again, there was no weirdness in sight. Well, aside from two grown men trying to corral a college student slash intern slash idea person.

The third man seemed to find the entire situation humorous. “I suspected she might be more,” he admitted. “The Lightwood name used to be infamous amongst the Nephilim; it only makes sense that she would still carry some of that blood. No runes, but strong enough still.”

She really hated to admit that she did not fully understand what he meant. She had read the statistics on how many young women were attacked each year and had learned some self-defense moves. Also, kickbox-cardio was her bitch. She needed something to vent her frustrations on while her code compiled and exercise was always good for stimulating blood flow which could only lead to benefits in the long run. Her mother had supported the endeavor, as had her father, really. No need to be vulnerable just because society expected it.

The second man lunged at her again and she made use of some of her skills. She was pleased to note that she grew more steady with each attack. He was stronger than her usual sparring partners even though he really didn’t look like he should be, so it took multiple attempts to knock him back on his ass. 

An ass that was lined up with the remains of the chair. Well, not ass so much as his chest. She winced as a piece of wood pierced that chest, and then screamed when the man burst into a cloud of ash before her very eyes. “What the actual f-?”

Her profanity was cut off by the third man, who looked on in consideration. “It would seem certain instincts have not yet died in your kind,” he mused. The horns were back - she was fairly certain they weren’t just different colored and shaped curls - and he looked seriously pissed off as he stalked towards her.

Only to suddenly freeze into place.

“The snake oil salesman,” the man sneered, apparently still able to speak. He shook slightly like he was trying to break some invisible hold. Either that or he was seriously intimidated by something. She doubted it was her. “I would have thought your magic had gone dormant after all this time.”

“You’re of age enough to remember the old ways and the agreements we made,” a very slightly familiar voice from behind her replied. “Which also means you’re old enough to know what I am truly capable of. Think of her as under my protection, much like the rest of her family.”

She had no idea what they were talking about, nor did she care. She had a sitting target of a bad guy and a possibly good guy who may or may not be willing to help her out. She spun and kicked and landed a decent blow right to his head. It must have snapped him out of whatever reverie he had been in because he dropped like a bag of bricks. She got ready for a follow through and wondered when the drugs would wear off because the guy positively looked like he was surrounded by a blue glow. Never one to take shortcuts, she did a quick snap kick right to his temple to make sure he was well and truly out.

She turned to address the new arrival, maybe thank him or maybe have to kick him too, and found nothing. That wasn’t completely true. She swore there was a pinkish-purple swirl to the air where he would have been before it blinked out and left her the only conscious and/or living party still in wherever it was she was in.

She really had to get on that. The whole cluelessness thing was not so her style. A short investigation found her usual bag tossed under a table to the side. Her phone was off, but not destroyed, and it took her a whole five count to decide to call Institute Security instead of her mom like she kind of wanted to. 

They arrived scary fast and the super nice dispatcher named Lydia stayed on the phone with her the entire time so she didn’t even fully freak out at everything that had just happened. 

That was for later.

That was for after being asked the same questions far too many times and getting checked out to see what might still be in her system and having an ice pack shoved at her face because her lip was getting big and puffy. Clary and Jace were all nice and supportive and proud at how she had handled herself. Simon hovered and promised a Star Wars marathon as soon as she wanted and as much buttery popcorn as she could eat. 

Alec... Her big brother coddled her and she melted right into it. He even dug out her old teddy bear - an Ewok that had seen better days. Her mom and dad were too busy being on a rampage that this had happened in the first place, and so she cuddled up with her brother and watched bad cartoons after he called his slightly familiar sounding boyfriend to beg off of a date and explain there had been an emergency. This one was a keeper because he was super understanding and asked if there was anything he could do to help.

There wasn’t, but the offer was nice anyway. He had her listen in when the new guy said how proud of her he was that she had handled herself so well and she kind of liked him a little bit more than Alec’s usual hook-ups. Mr. Morgenstern also called to say how proud he was, and how horrified he was that she had to go though such a thing. He said the security teams had traced the attempt to something he called the Downworlder Consortium, that sounded like something out of one of the spy movies Simon liked so much. The long and the short of it was that he was assigning her extra security until everything was back under control.

For now though, she may have possibly gorged herself on ice cream with the excuse that it was technically keeping cold on her lip. She may have also readily accepted the little bobble Alec’s guy gave her that he swore was a protection charm. It may not be science but, given everything else that had happened that she still wasn’t one hundred percent certain was just the drugs, she was willing to give it a shot. Also, it was kind of pretty.

She hung the little stone by her bed at night and shoved it in her pocket during the day. If, one night when she walked up to her apartment a little later than usual, she happened to see some scary looking guys chase off some other scary looking guys while growling something that sounded suspiciously like, “She’s off limits,” well, then it just proved the sucker worked.


End file.
